


Hands

by Daisy_in_lazy_eyes



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, He only finds peace with Shisui, Itachi’s wet nights on Akatsuki, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, OOC, Semi-Canonical Character, ShiIta, Short One Shot, Songfic, i also made a fanart about this, my second work in english so I’m trying my best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 04:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daisy_in_lazy_eyes/pseuds/Daisy_in_lazy_eyes
Summary: His hands keep driving you. Fragile, smooth hands, long tired fingers. Your lips find his throbbing glans and the weasel arches, closing his eyes. He feels the caresses and the friction (of your tongue?) go faster and faster. He wraps himself in your fantasy, whispers your name, “Shisui”, but he doesn’t dare glace you.
Relationships: Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. First of all, I must clarify that English is not my mother tongue. But I've been working on the translation of this one-shot and I think I finally got it done. I apologize if I used any words that don’t fit the context of the story, it was a bit more difficult than translating “Give me your misery” due to the nature of the story.  
> What follows is strange, but I still hope you like it.

**Hands**

**~** **ShiIta ~**

_Si te pudiera conservar_

_Y atraer tu ficción a mi realidad_

_Como ojos que ansían la novedad_

_Yo persigo la estela de mi libertad_

[ Anni B Sweet, _La vida está en otra parte_ ]

. . .

His thin hands guide you through the curves of his arms.

There is freshness in the wind that swings the curtains, but his skin is burning. He vibrates under your fingertips, he is contracting. The hairs on his neck stand on end at the slightest rubbing of your lips, your mouth on his sensitive neck and the collarbone. You draw the muscles of his torso until you reach the obliques. That’s where you stay. To entertain yourself and torture him.

Excitement overflows in your eyes when you see him biting his lips. Long raven-braids bathe his shoulders and sheets like ink spilled on milky scrolls. Itachi forces himself in order to hold his breath, his throat closes, and his pupils watch you through a crystalline cloak as his cheeks light up the flush that used to herald the sunsets at Nakano.

If you hold that glace, he’s going to blush more. If you caress his narrow hips and breath his name on his belly, he’s going to stain you. He knows so well and even so, he invites you to continue, oh, of course he does. Itachi wants you to look inside, deep inside, perhaps beyond his rotten heart, where the child who is terrified by his own hands hides. Bloddy, dirty, killer hands.

He wants you inside. Just you. Because he knows you’re the only one able to find him.

You may be surprised to discover the fragility in the hands guiding you. If you pay attention, you’ll see them immaculate, but brittle. Do you remember when you held them for the first time, while teaching Itachi tricks with kunais? Remember the texture, and how they trembled between your fingers the day he received your first love confession?

_If the handle of my sword is too rough, then I close my eyes and think of your hands, my weasel. If there’s nothing around me but dead and war, then I close my eyes and think of your hair, that soft blackness where your kindness hides. If I feel like I’m drowning, I close my eyes and think of yours, your arms. I think of you and suddenly, there’s a spark of light in this miserable world._

When that memory reaches his mind, he feels ashamed, unworthy.

_Do you have a damn idea of what I’ve done_ _!?_

He squeezes his eyelids. He doesn’t want to glace you, but at the same time, he is dying to hear you, to feel you, to see you slide the space like a ghost across the room. You know? He loves to imagine clothes slipping down your body. He loves having you on the top, kissing the scars of his battles as he guides you under his clothes, shame chasing his libido.

He shows himself in front of you with open arms.

He wants to feel you.

Clear that, no matter how many nights Itachi adds by your side, the feeling of imprudence will never leave him completely. Through his eyelashes, he glace your tongue tracing his groin, causing electrifying (and still unknown) sensations in a gnawed body that, later, in the middle of a mission with Kisame, invade Itachi’s memory and drowns him into shame, again.

It’s hard to imagine what you would say to him after all what’s he’s been through.

However, his hands keep driving you. Fragile, smooth hands, long tired fingers. Your lips find his throbbing glans and the weasel arches, closing his eyes. He feels the caresses and the friction (of your tongue?) go faster and faster. He wraps himself in your fantasy, whispers your name, “Shisui”, but he doesn’t dare glace you.

Could you ever handle what you have in front of you? Would you even surrender where the hands guide you? Would you caress on your own the limbs that hinder and hurt him? Mouth impregned by the taste of blood and spit? Stained teeth, trembling bones, exhausted eyes and swollen lungs.

A bag carrying offal.

You don’t care (and he doesn’t want you to care). You are on his hands. In the past, you never did more than kissing his cheek and pressing your lips to his, both of you being too young to even imagine carnal needs. Now, however, Itachi can’t ignore them. They constantly assault him, waking him up in the middle of the night, sweating and gasping for air. Spend long minutes glancing the place where he lives: that little bundle rising under the gloom, defying the limits of his reality and making fun of him.

Right now, his wet essence drains though your mouth. With his expert hands, Itachi guides you to push inside him and calm the desire of his body.

Because he needs you.

Hell, he needs your kisses on his mouth, needs you to suppress the moans stuck in his swollen throat. He needs you to hold his fragile legs and to adhere yourself to him. To hug him tightly, no matter if you break him.

Will you pick up his pieces once you meet Itachi again? Will you even be there?

“Shisui. Shisui”. Your name escapes several times from those lips. He arches when he reaches the climax, ejaculating completely. The white sheets and his abdomen are stained with his dense fluid while, outside, the night wind continues swinging the curtains.

Itachi’s gaze forces you to stay in each one of his blinks.

“I’m sorry”. His voice is a whisper, stills in spasms. His sclera is covered in vines of blood. “I’m very sorry, Shisui”.

Slowly, his hands lose strength. The rhythm of his heart keeps pace as this beathing oscillates between relaxation and the daily pain of his disease. You give him a warm smile; you murmur love words. But the only real sound comes from the next bed, where Kisame unconsciously shifting between his covers.

Little by little, Itachi’s body becomes dying and tired. He doesn’t want you to leave, so the tries hard to keep you there, with him.

Nonetheless…

“Please, hold me”.

Fragile hands pull you down over Itachi, but they’ve become weak. So, when his fingers escape his will and finally leaves you…

You’ve ceased to exist.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope my story was clear. Itachi was jerking off thinking about Shisui, but he was already dead. In my imagination this happened after Shisui's suicide, at some point where Itachi was already in Akatsuki. Why did I wrote something like this and why does Itachi feel so unworthy for using Shisui to masturbate?
> 
> It's two things, his disease and the fact that he is tormented by having reached the point of murdering the clan that he and Shisui wanted to protect. Also, if I'm not mistaken, Itachi was between twelve and fourteen years old when the massacre happened. Although I like to believe that his romance with Shisui started at a very young age, I doubt they experienced sexually being too young, at least Itachi, and Shisui wouldn’t have forced him.
> 
> So, with all the burden of watching over Konoha from the shadows, protecting his brother, and preparing to fight him, I doubt Itachi was a sexually active person. But the body is the body, he can't escape those needs, so when the only person he imagined making love with no longer exists, then he turns to imagination.
> 
> Uh, a very long explanation. I'm sorry. If anything, I hope you liked it despite how strange and tragic it turned out to be.
> 
> The song I used for inspiration is called “La vida está en otra parte”, by Anni B Sweet.
> 
> Oh and in my fanart, I recently started drawing so if you notice very thin hands, it's because I used mine for reference~


End file.
